Gone
by RinoaDestiny
Summary: Sometimes, accidents happen. When one occurs to Kyo Kusanagi, his rival tries to come to terms with it. (One-shot)


**Gone**

_Written by: RinoaDestiny_

King of Fighters, Kyo Kusanagi, and Iori Yagami belong to SNK

**Comments**: Because sometimes accidents happen. When your number gets called, often it isn't for you to choose the method of your exit.

* * *

In the end, he wasn't the one to kill Kyo after all. It was an accident and a terrible one at that.

Everyone who knew the King of Fighters champion knew Kyo Kusanagi had a thing for motorcycles. He had one and often went riding out during good weather, which was plenty around this time of year in Osaka. The best roads weren't the ones within the city itself but those outside. Those roads ran long and there was the occasional curve, particularly when the rural countryside and the mountain ranges met the city boundaries.

It was on one of those curves where everything went wrong.

The weather hadn't been bad, insofar as Iori recalled. It was hard to recollect exactly all the details, since being the only witness to a gruesome accident fucked up his memory. He only knew it hadn't rained the night before, so the roads were dry. He was up to his usual business tracking down Kyo and had followed him from within the city to the outskirts, taking breaks in between. Even his rival couldn't ride non-stop and Iori himself couldn't stalk him across most of Osaka without taking short rests. As much as he hated to admit it, he had limitations.

So, too, had Kyo.

Usually, a curve on a mountain road wouldn't deter his rival. Usually, his rival had no difficulty making the turn, which made Iori curse him as he loped behind, swearing at the uphill chase. He had no idea why that day, of all days, turned out to be fatal for the Kusanagi heir.

He swore Kyo had no idea he was following him that day. Because Iori had no part to play in what happened next as he saw Kyo reach the curve. He'd been some distance away but close enough to hear the first sounds of things going awry.

The brakes screeched. The bike flipped, and Kusanagi lost control.

Even now, he couldn't remember the order of things. He only remembered the horrific loud sound of the bike skidding against asphalt, crashing into the mountain's undergrowth, engine still running. Kusanagi striking the guardrail with a sickening crunch but not before leaving a swath of blood and pulverized flesh behind that Iori could still see in his mind to this day. Iori had seen things in his short lifetime but he could've done without that.

He had closed the distance, grabbed Kyo and removed his helmet – the other man was unconscious, which was merciful – and had his phone in hand dialing 119 for an ambulance. They were in the middle of nowhere and Kyo was bleeding out onto the asphalt. Iori felt raw flesh under his fingers, felt wet things, and realized that Kusanagi wasn't making it out of this one alive. He didn't know how he knew – he just did.

It wasn't supposed to work out this way.

"Hey, Kusanagi!" He didn't shake the man – that would injure him further – but watching him die like this wasn't…it didn't feel right. "Kusanagi, you little shit…talk to me! Goddammit!"

Ambulance services got through and he snapped out the few important details he knew before pocketing his phone. Kyo was going blue around the lips, drained white because of the rapid blood loss, and Iori didn't miss the terrible irony that he was the one with Kyo only because of his obsession with the other man. If he hadn't followed him, Kusanagi would've died alone, possibly undiscovered for days and…

A thought suddenly hit him. He rifled through the other man's pockets until he found his phone. He hoped it wasn't password-protected, because someone else needed to know about this. Usually, he wouldn't care but this wasn't a usual day and Kyo's parents deserved to know their son's fate. He swiped the phone screen, didn't encounter any obstacles, and pulled up Kusanagi's contacts list. There was only one contact for the Kusanagi home, which literally stated that. He hit the "Call" command and waited.

"Hello? Kyo, is that you?"

Iori gritted his teeth. Saisyu Kusanagi. This wasn't going to be easy.

"This is Iori Yagami. I have bad news for you."

Silence. A second passed before Saisyu spoke and there was ice in his voice. Iori could only imagine what the old man was like back in his day when he faced his father. "Yagami. Where's my son? What have you done to him?"

And like that, an accusation was fired without proof.

"Your son had a motorcycle accident. He's hurt. Possibly dying. I –"

"You're lying, Yagami."

"I called an ambulance," Iori continued, ignoring Saisyu. "They should be here soon but –"

"You killed him, didn't you?"

"Look," Iori snapped, losing patience. "Get your wife on the line and shut up. Would I call you if I killed your son? She'd hear me out, at least."

"You aren't…"

A feminine voice over the other end. Iori hoped it was Shizuka Kusanagi. At least she knew sense – enough to override hatred of his clan in a dire moment like this. There was change of hands – a shuffling in the background – and Kyo's mother was on the phone. "Is this Iori Yagami?"

"Yes. You're Shizuka?"

"Yes. What's this about, young man?"

Iori blinked. That was a first. "Your son's had an accident. A bad one. I think…"

"You called an ambulance, yes?"

"I did. Your husband accused me of murdering your son."

"He would. Where are you going, Saisyu?" Noise in the background and then Shizuka was back on the line. "Do you know where they'd take him?"

"Not sure. You want me to follow, after? I'm not family."

"Please. Give us a call once you know the hospital. We want to be there."

This was the oddest of occurrences and each word spoken – Kyo limp in his lap – was a lead weight in his heart. He didn't even think he had one. "I'll let you know."

Shizuka Kusanagi was the one who ended the call. Iori pocketed Kyo's phone, placing it next to his. As the light waned, the blood drying in spots and congealing in others on the empty road, Iori awaited the ambulance. By the time it arrived, lights flashing, Kyo Kusanagi was gone.

* * *

He kept his word. He took the ambulance ride to the hospital, called the Kusanagi household, gave them the name of the place and then hung around long enough to see them arrive. He didn't stay around after that.

He was still a member of the Yagami clan. People could be unreasonable when grieving.

The police stopped by later at his place, since he was the only known witness. What he described matched their reports at the scene of the accident and they had no more business with him afterwards. He'd closed his apartment door, feeling a sense of unease. An emptiness.

Kyo Kusanagi was gone and it wasn't by his hands at all.

It was an accident, like any other. It happened all the time to normal people.

And he'd been there at Kusanagi's side when it went down. Had…

He didn't know what to think. How to understand his actions. He should be happy, shouldn't he?

He wasn't. He didn't know what he felt right now.

All he knew was that he was forever going to replay that accident in his mind.

He had a nightmare that evening. He stayed awake after that, working through two packs of cigarettes. It was dawn before he finally went back to sleep, exhausted.

* * *

When the day of the funeral arrived, Iori kept himself far away from the center of it. Kyo Kusanagi had a lot of friends – he wasn't one of them – and the last thing any of them wanted to see was him. He knew this. Kyo was his rival – late rival, he amended – and that meant a level of respect, however small. Besides, Shizuka Kusanagi would be there and he didn't want to be disruptive to her when she had offered him some kindness and heard him out.

No. He wouldn't do that to her.

He was accustomed to hovering about the fringes, whether they were events or places. He did this, watching until the ceremony was over and then left. No one even knew he was there.

It took some time until Kyo's ashes were to be interred. Iori knew the traditional ritual and the set number of days and started counting down. Even with the other man dead, he couldn't let go. It was like some sickness deep inside of him. He kept losing sleep, kept seeing the trail of blood and flesh on the dark road and what it led to…

One night, long after the days passed, after the gravesites were empty and quiet, Iori visited it. The nights were colder now, so he bundled himself in a long coat and scarf and made his slow walk down the rows of well-maintained gravestones. There was one particular stone he was looking for and it was too soon, too unexpected for its existence.

He stopped before Kyo's gravestone. Saw the flowers, the memorial plaque, the incense.

He only had one thing to offer.

The cigarette in his hand he lit, letting the purple flame set its heart alight. He bent over, fixed it upright in the incense holder, and followed the pale smoke upwards. He had no words. He never did.

The cemetery was quiet.

So was he.


End file.
